Rings of Memory
by erunyauve
Summary: The Rings of Power were not the first rings forged by Celebrimbor. After the fall of Nargothrond, he delivers a ring he once forged to a grieving son.


**Author's Notes: ** There is no evidence that Celebrimbor made these rings (or that there was more than one). Tolkien only stated that the ring was made in Aman. He almost certainly did reforge Anglachel for Túrin - it wouldn't make sense for it to have been anyone else - but it's not stated as such.

I've mixed canon here - I've gone with Tolkien's last decision to place Gil-galad as the son of Arothir (Orodreth), but I've kept the earlier story, when he was the son of Fingon and sent as a child to be fostered by Círdan. (1)

**Disclaimer:** Tolkien owns the characters and plots. I'm just playing in his garden.

**Rings of Memory**

**Year of the Trees 1488**

"I think this would be good for you to do."

Tyelperinquar examined the sketch Aulë had placed on his work table. The design of the piece was intricate, the requirements challenging, and he loved jewellery work above all. The emblem in the design, however, was not unfamiliar to him. Truly, he wondered if the Vala had any common sense at all.

At least the request had not come from Nolofinwë. Relations between his grandfather and his youngest brother were less hostile, if only because Arafinwë refused to be drawn into conflict.

To be sure, he did not discuss his work when he encountered his father's family in Valmar. His desire to follow his great-grandfather into the service of Aulë as one of the Aulendili had not been well-received. (2)

"Be careful, Tyelperinquar, for you will set your grandfather against you," his father had warned.

The Valar's judgement in the matter of Míriel had forever set Fëanáro against them; he had taught his sons to respect the Valar as teachers, and to learn from them what they could, but they were not to be worshipped or honoured. "Only to Ilúvatar do we owe our worship," Fëanáro had oft said.

But Tyelperinquar had seen the envy - and pride - in Curufinwë's eyes; the son was doing what the father, for all his talent, had never had the discipline to do. Fëanáro, for his part, had been vague. "What sort of teacher demands the love and fealty of his students?" he had asked, but said no more. His grandfather had been preoccupied by a project of his own.

The work engrossed him - he was to make rings for Arafinwë, his three sons and grandson. He fashioned each ring as its own piece, with subtle differences in the curvature of the serpents and unique stones representing the eyes. As he worked, he realised that perhaps Aulë was not quite so impolitic as he had thought.

"You are not simply attaching this piece to that, according to a design. You want to go inside the design, to feel what is right for the bearer."

He was long in thought over the rings and their wearers, longer than in the forging and crafting itself. "If it is possible to bring a reflection of the fëa into the forging, should it not be possible to bring in the fëa itself?" he wondered.

"It is possible," Aulë admitted, "but perhaps unwise. The fëa is indeed limitless and indestructible by itself. But to bring it into physical being outside the hroa would bind it to its housing. The hroa is like clothing - it can be cast off with no injury to the skin underneath. The _engwi_ are more like a shackle - you must cut off the limb to remove it. But we will discuss this more after you have finished this work." (3)

But the noontide of Valinor now moved swiftly toward its twilight, and so he had hardly completed the rings before a courier arrived, calling Aulë to the Ring of Doom. Scarcely thereafter had come his father's summons, ordering him to Formenos.

**First Age 496**

Círdan's footman eyed him with suspicion as he explained his purpose. He had no idea what he had done to warrant it, unless the 'Curufinion' had spawned all sorts of unwelcome and - mostly - unfair assumptions about him. They stood at an impasse for several minutes. Finally, the servant sniffed and said grudgingly, "I will ask if the young lord will see you." At length, he returned to the vestibule. "This way."

He had imagined a taller version of the Elf-child of twenty-five, a child whose unkempt braids were the despair of his mother's handmaid, a child with the too-serious eyes of an adult. Instead, he was met by an Elf who, even in the simple garb of the Falathrim, looked every bit the Noldorin prince that he was.

"Mae govannen, Celebrimbor. I am glad that not all of my family perished," Ereinion said, turning to greet him. Beneath the composure, shadows bespoke the troubled dreamsleep of grief. "I was told you had got out," he added, with a look of reproach.

In truth, he had hesitated to visit his kinsman out of fear that Ereinion would resent him for surviving when his nearer kin had perished. Thrown off, he stuttered forward. "I - your father's squire brought this to your mother, just before the city was taken." Celebrimbor thrust the knotted, blood-stained handkerchief into Ereinion's hands.

Ereinion undid the knot. Wrapped in the cloth was his father's ring, the ring that bore the emblem of his House. He fingered the stains on the handkerchief. "My father's?"

"I assume so." Celebrimbor shifted uncomfortably; he had pondered this some time. "I did not know if I should - I did not know if it would be-."

"Too upsetting?" Ereinion finished. "Indeed, there is enough gore on the ring itself. He was cut down and he died. What did you think I thought happened to him?"

"I am sorry," Celebrimbor said, inadequate though he knew the words to be.

"No, you did not deserve that." He passed a hand over his tightly braided hair, a ghost of his childhood habit of tugging his braids into disarray. "Thank you for bringing this to me." He paused. "Little else remains to me. Not even memories."

Celebrimbor sensed the sorrow of absence as much as the grief of loss. To send their young son away had caused his parents great anguish. What must it have been like for Ereinion, all the more so now the separation was permanent? Grief, in time, must fade, but regret was the burden of their kind.

With a perfunctory knock, the footman entered. "Lord Círdan requests that you stay for the evening meal." He did not look happy about this message.

"I will, thank you," Celebrimbor replied.

"Very well," the footman bowed and was gone.

"He is a bit distrustful," Ereinion said, with a slight quirk of a smile.

"It was no doubt the 'Curufinion'. At times, I have thought of using my mother's name."

Ereinion frowned. "He is your father. I know you repudiated him, but he was not always so."

"So deceitful? No." Lust for the Silmarilli had darkened all that was good and honourable in his family, but he could remember a time when his father had been Laurelin and Telperion to him.

"I do not think we can escape the deeds of our fathers, in any case. And you have no reason, Arothirion. Your father was the only Elf who stood with Arafin...Finarfin, and spoke against leaving Aman. Think you that took no courage, under my grandfather's glare? Fëanáro was maddened beyond all reason. Your father was no weakling."

Ereinion nodded, tugging at his braid as he paced the floor. "This, I do not understand," he said at length. "Why did he disregard the warning of Ulmo?" He fixed Celebrimbor in his piercing stare. "The Valar were always honoured in our home. Had that so changed?"

"Ulmo's warning troubled him greatly. I think that if he could have gainsaid Túrin at the end, he would have done so. But Túrin had grown mightier than the King, in council and among the populace." (4)

"Why? How did this Man come to wield such power?"

Celebrimbor hesitated. Arothir was simply unsuited to rule. Ereinion did not need to hear this, however. "The whole kingdom fell under his spell, your father as much as anyone. I cannot explain it otherwise. It was not some evil magic," he added quickly. "Túrin was no friend to Morgoth. But magic it was, and it proved evil all the same."

Ereinion slid the ring on his finger; it fit, but only just for the thick calluses on his hands. Ship-work, Celebrimbor thought, surprised. The Noldor did not build ships. Indeed, that was where all the trouble had begun, was it not?

Could a ring take on the character of its new bearer? He had reforged Anglachel, and he had never felt that the sword adapted to its new master.

This ring had been made for an Elf who valued quiet reflection, a student of Nienna in Aman. Celebrimbor had always found his cousin's presence to be peaceful. Arothir had a steely edge of righteousness about him, however. He had found courage where evil prevailed; he had found the courage to send his son away to safety-. His thoughts broke off.

The last scion of Finwë. Arothir had not sent his son to Círdan to ensure that he would have an heir. He had sent his son to safety to ensure that Turgon would have an heir. Celebrimbor saw what the ring had meant to Arothir - it was a final plea for understanding: 'I am sorry,' it seemed to say. 'I am sorry I could not protect you as a father should have done.' (5)

"Your father did not send this ring to you as a mere token, Artanáro. He wanted you to know that you were in his last thoughts."

Ereinion bowed his head. Celebrimbor could see the glimmer of tears unshed as resentment warred with pride, doubt with love. He knew such sentiments only too well. But though the dead had spoken, those who lived were ever silent. Perhaps Ereinion could now make peace with the dead. Celebrimbor waited still to bury the living.

* * *

(1) I've kept the earlier story, when he was the son of Fingon and sent as a child to be fostered by Círdan.

I think there is some support for this in LOTR:

_But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood by his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Círdan stood, and I._

Elrond makes sense - he was his herald, friend and named heir. By why Círdan? Where was Celeborn? Thranduil? I think the implication is that just as Elendil's sons stood with him at the end, so did Gil-galad's family. (_LOTR_ p 243 pub Houghton Mifflin Kindle Edition)

(2) Aulendili

Mahtan would be the great-grandfather here. (_The Peoples of Middle-earth_, 'The Shibboleth of Fëanor' pp 365-366 pub Houghton Mifflin)

(3) _engwi_ (Q)

Plural of _engwë,_ 'thing' - I've used this as a collective noun for all inanimate materials (as opposed to living things). I was thinking of Sauron, who was eventually able to reappear in fair form following his battle with Lúthien (in which he had to leave his fana behind), in comparison to his total defeat after the One Ring was destroyed by Frodo and Gollum.

(4) Ulmo's warning troubled him greatly.

(_The Children of Húrin_ pp 175-176 pub Houghton Mifflin Kindle Edition)

(5) to ensure that Turgon would have an heir

This refers to Turgon as High King of the Noldor, not as King of Gondolin. He named Maeglin as his heir in Gondolin, but Noldorin succession seems to have been patrilineal, at least until the male line ended. Otherwise, Eärendil (and later Elrond and Elros) would have had priority over Gil-galad.


End file.
